Chapter 109
Janice and Lorencia ran as fast as they could.
From the moment they lost Theo, Janice could only think one thing:
“It’s over.”
Her lips pressed tightly together. Whatever the mercenaries’ intentions were, the fact that they had taken Theo alone meant only one thing—Theo was important for their purpose. That purpose would surely connect back to Istheria. Even if they demanded ransom, they would ask it from Istheria.
“What do you mean?” Lorencia tilted her head.
Janice’s clenched fists trembled, her eyes burning red.
“Just what I said—it’s over.”
A single mistake had ruined everything. No matter what Lorencia said, they should have killed Theo back at the castle! Janice’s eyelids quivered. Her every breath was full of rage.
“Don’t you get it? That damned Charlotte will definitely wake him up!”
“So?” Lorencia still didn’t understand.
Janice exhaled sharply.
“When Theo wakes, do you think he’ll say, ‘kind Lorencia saved me’?”
Lorencia’s pale face went stiff.
“No. He’ll say we kidnapped him. He’ll say we tried to kill him. And he’ll repeat all the things we talked about!”
“Th-then what do we do?”
That useless question again.
Lorencia never did anything but depend on others. Janice’s whole body shook, eyes shut tight, fury rising to the top of her head.
If things continued like this, the promise would fail. The cursed promise she made—to make Lorencia the Duchess of Istheria! That very contract was now devouring her, eating her alive from her toes upward, ready to swallow her whole.
Because of that brat, everything was about to collapse.
Janice turned to look at Lorencia.
There was only one way left.
If the one bound by the contract died—if the other party could no longer fulfill it—then Janice’s own life would be spared.
That meant two people had to die.
If she succeeded in this, she might survive.
Until now, she hadn’t taken that option because of the backlash—hurting Lorencia by force could bring harm to herself. But now… now there was no choice. Even if she suffered, it was better than dying.
“What do we do?” Janice’s voice turned cold and eerie.
She had never once felt affection for Lorencia. Of course, she would need an excuse for those back at the capital—but that was simple enough. Lorencia wouldn’t be “killed by Janice.” She’d be said to have perished in the chaos of war with the monsters.
Janice stepped closer.
“I told you from the start, Lorencia. We should’ve just killed that damn brat.”
Lorencia stumbled backward. The safehouse Janice had prepared was small—her back quickly hit the wall. Her nails scratched against it desperately.
“You—you think you’ll get away with this? My brother won’t forgive you! And what about the promise? Do you want your family to die too?!”
Janice’s laugh was chilling.
“Lorencia. Don’t you realize? In the North, dozens of people die every single day. Can’t you even smell their blood?”
Her smile twisted with resignation.
“So if you’re among the dead, what’s the difference? You think your brother will come all the way here to fight monsters for you?”
Janice reached out toward her.
Lorencia screamed.
How much time had passed?
How many days had this battle raged on?
The sky was covered in ash, fire, and black clouds. The sun never rose, never set—only endless darkness remained.
Cassius swung his sword without rest. His body was beyond exhaustion; his senses no longer worked. He moved on instinct alone, slashing, stabbing, killing.
Blue swordlight tore through monsters’ bellies, spilling out their insides. Their shrieks pierced his ears. He raised his sword again, cutting one in half, then spinning to strike two more at once. The street—once a place where people lived—was now soaked in blood and screams.
Giverny staggered to his side.
“…Your Grace!”
Cassius turned. Giverny’s arm was wrapped in bandages, his face smeared with soot.
“The Gate—it’s closing!” Giverny’s voice shook, his eyes wet with tears mixed with dirt.
“If the Gate shuts, no more monsters will cross! Just hold on a little longer, my lord!”
Cassius clenched his teeth.
“…Why? What caused this?”
For some reason, Janice’s face flickered in his mind.
“I don’t know,” Giverny admitted. “It’s impossible to get near the Gate now… dragons are fighting there.”
Cassius nodded grimly. Whatever the reason, if this hell could finally end, that alone was enough.
Just a little longer. Endure a little longer.
Then he could go home—to Charlotte, to Theo, to his family.
He raised his sword again.
“Spread the word. Tell everyone—the Gate is closing! Give them hope!”
“Yes, my lord!”
Giverny lifted a war horn with his good hand. His arm trembled, but he blew with all his strength. The long, clear sound rang out across the battlefield, filling soldiers with courage.
Then—
A dazzling light burst across the sky.
Cassius squinted against its brilliance.
From the ground, a tree had grown tall—its trunk glowing white, its branches heavy with silver leaves.
The light spread outward. Wherever it touched, monsters melted away.
Cassius’s breath caught. Tears welled in his eyes. The disaster that no human could defeat was retreating.
Monsters shrieked and scattered, running in terror. But even fleeing, they could not escape the light.
In the distance, Tarsila’s furious roar echoed.
Cassius’s lips trembled.
“…My God.”
The god who had abandoned this world—
“Errelaisi…”
Perhaps the god had returned. Perhaps they had never truly left. That holy tree could only be the sacred tree of the divine.
Cassius heard hymns of praise rising in the distance.
And in that moment, he thought of Charlotte. His god. His salvation. The only spring that had ever warmed him.
Maybe the divine had never left Istheria at all. Maybe they had always been watching, arranging for salvation through her.
It’s over, he realized.
His rusted, exhausted body finally slowed. Too tired to move. He had fought endlessly, given everything, swung his sword more than anyone. His senses were dulled, his body worn down.
And so—
Thunk!
“Khugh!”
Cassius bent over, blood pouring from his mouth.
“Your Grace!” voices screamed around him.
He turned his head weakly. The world moved in slow motion, as if time itself had stopped.
Then he heard it—
“Die, Cassius.”
A familiar voice.
Janice.
She had returned, in the form of death.
